The True You
by W. Shepard
Summary: A short-story of the Sole Survivor's inner thoughts concerning how far she will go to get her baby boy back. (disclaimer: I only own my personal character, I do not claim to own rights to anything else in Fallout 4, please don't sue me.)


_Thud._

The tip of a knife digs into soft painted wood on the other side of the room. Leaning back in a chair, her feet resting on a desk Kathrine smiles to herself. She is only in her mid-twenties; her ginger hair was shoulder length and her slim face was peppered with freckles. She was very attractive, and she knew it all too well. Hoisting her feet off the desk she walked over to pull the knife free from her makeshift target before returning to her lone chair. Her wooden shack was small, yet simple, and had everything she needed: several crates to sort and store her weapons, ammo, and armor. A small bed and nightstand, a desk with one chair, and a single ceiling fan that spun slowly overhead. She returned her feet to the desk, leaning on the back two legs of the chair and examined the knife for a moment. The cold, blue steel greeting her fingers as she ran them along the flat of the blade.

"Mhm," She hummed to herself, as she turned the blade over and examined the edge carefully.

"Still sharp. Good," She said.

 _Thud._

With a flick of her wrist the blade glided smoothly across the middle of the shack and dug into the wood once again, the tip adding yet one more mark inside the red circle target; there were none outside it. She let several seconds hang in the room while she kept her eyes locked on the handle. It was her father's knife from well before the bombs fell, and she kept it in the best shape that she could manage. The blade held an edge that could match the claw of a deathclaw itself, which measured six inches where it was joined to a handle wrapped in boxing tape since the original leather had peeled off long ago. Her fingers closed around the tape-wrapped hilt as Kat struggled to keep her rage in check.

"This blade will spill blood until I find my baby boy. I'll see you soon Shaun," she chocked on the lump forming in her throat; she leaned heavily against the wall, still clutching her knife. Her free hand rose to lovingly stroke the metal band that hung from a chain around her neck.

"But don't think I have forgotten you, my Love. Heads will roll, oh yes." The last two words she emphasized with a sad smile as the blade was torn from the wall. She wasn't always so ready to kill, indeed there was once a time when these words would have startled her. The Commonwealth however, seems to dull these feelings in order to survive day-by-day. She often wonders if the thrill of tracking or the taste of blood had always been within her, hidden away. It's not like she enjoyed killing another human being, however she would be lying if she said that she didn't get a rush afterwards. But when she stood splattered in warm blood around the limp bodies of a group of raiders, with her hands on her knees gasping for stale breath; that was when she truly felt alive. The fact that she was one battle closer to finding Shaun exhilarated her.

She slid it into the sheath, grabbed an empty backpack, and knelt down to pack for her journey. A soft whine caught her off guard for a moment before she remembered that Dogmeat was laying on a sleeping bag at the foot of her bed.

"It's okay boy. I just need to finish packing and we can head out," she told him, earning an excited bark from her friend. It didn't take her long to fill the backpack, and soon it was strung across her back with her scoped-hunting rifle. She pulled the head-wrap into place and fastened the last strap of her road leathers, completing the preparations. She nodded to Dogmeat and opened the shack door. She stepped into the moonlight followed closely by her canine companion, the pair heading southeast.

J _ust hold on, Shaun. I won't let them take you away from me again,_ she thought, beginning to jog.

 **A/N: So thank you for reading The True You. This is my first Fallout story in a long time, so reviews would be appreciated, let me know what you think and I may do more. Check out my other stories too if you enjoyed this one. The Apocalypse Chronicles follows a group of friends through a rage-virus outbreak, and One Fantasy is a FF XIV:ARR fic centered on a young paladin as she struggles to deal with a ghost from her past. Thanks for any support you send my way, and Stay Classy.**

 **\- Wyatt Shepard**


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